


Monochrome

by dramatical_rhyme



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: AU, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 20:38:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramatical_rhyme/pseuds/dramatical_rhyme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>White mage Aoba has to find and save dying Knight of Arms Koujaku for his queen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monochrome

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written DMMd fanfiction yet, and it's been a while since I wrote fics/smut in general. I'm sorry if they're ooc. I would love feedback and constructive criticism and hopefully in time I can make my character more in character (Named Monochrome after the new Arashi song, check it out an the lyrics!)

Aoba was alone. He was used to this, but he still clenched his staff tightly in both of his hands and had his hood pulled tightly over his flowing blue hair. The woods were dark, menacingly so, and he cursed himself for not having the ability to produce light from his staff nor the power to conceal himself. His robes and breeches were strikingly white, the only splash of color being the red lining along the edges of the clothing. Silently, he cursed his status feeling utterly useless as a healer and frighteningly conspicuous in his white and red clothing, clearly marking his status.

Aoba trudged through the dark forest, glad that his eyes had adjusted well. He could see everything he needed to by the light of the moon, which he looked up to occasionally, begging it for help and answers. His queen had sent him, being the best white mage under her power, to find her missing knight of arms. She knew that Aoba was not strong with weapons. But she also knew that he had the ability to not only heal others but to heal himself. He was also pretty good at running away and hiding when in danger.

Glancing around him nervously as he walked through the trees he now cursed his fate under his breath. He loved his queen. However, she had sent him too suddenly, with little information for him. All he knew was that in this forest, the Plumas Forest, was the knight he needed to look for; his men killed, alone, and suffering terrible wounds. He did not doubt his queen, for she was blessed with the gift of Seeing. But he wished that she could have told him more of this knight’s location, of the way he looked. For all he knew was that this man had a scar trailing across the bridge of his nose.

Aoba had already been scouring the forest for about two days, this being the second night, and soon, he would have to rest. While it was in his power to restore his health with magic, Aoba rarely liked to. It defied the nature of the world and of human beings, and he had no desire to disrupt this nature. On his back was a traveling backpack, filled with meager rations and necessary tools for sleeping, travelling, and putting up a small camp. The queen had handed the pack to him, telling him one more, useful thing before he left; the knight would not be easy to heal, so he had to find him within three day’s time or not be able to save him, and in the forest, beyond where he would find the knight, would be a house, filled with provisions, for them to stay while Aoba healed the knight.

That information was extremely helpful. Though he had no idea in what relation the house was to the knight he was supposed to find, he knew that he had the strength at least, to carry the man there if it was as close as the queen said.

Looking up at the moon again, Aoba noted its position in the sky. It was getting to be too late. He walked a little further and found a nice, thick tree to lean his staff and self against as he pulled out his sleeping bag. Dreams plagued him all night, and not the kind that let you sleep peacefully. They were images sent from his queen. He loved and hated this power of hers. The dreams told him exactly where the knight was, how far away he was from Aoba (about a half a days walk now) and how close he was to the house. The images would stick in Aoba’s head for at least two more days before he was able to let them slip away. The information was helpful. But due to the nature of the messages she sent, it was like a waking dream; he was unconscious but not resting through them.

When he awoke at sunrise he was grumpy, agitated, and more tired than he needed to be. He considered using his magic on himself a little, but decided against using it just yet. Aoba knew he had a long few days coming up. Instead, he pulled out his flask from his backpack, conveniently spelled to never run out of water, and a vial. He tapped the vial oh so slightly over the flask, and drank heartily. The medicine in the vial would keep his sleepiness away until night; extremely convenient.

Cleaning up his bags and straightening his clothes and hair, he grabbed his staff and set off towards where he knew the knight would be. He was in a much better mood than yesterday, other than being slightly more tired than he would like. The sun was warm, but not hot, the sky a perfect clear blue through the trees. And he knew where he was going.

It took him, like his visions had showed him, a half day to get to where the knight should be. Worry seared Aoba’s heart as the day wore on. The knight was not doing so well, from what he had seen. Even when Aoba’s stomach began to rumble in hunger, he pressed on. There wasn’t enough time, and he should be close.

And then, through an opening in the trees; weird that the knight was in a clearing and not trying to hide in the trees; he saw a body. Immediately the image clicked with the ones in his visions and he rushed forward only to stop suddenly when he saw the body.

Aoba was frozen, staring down at the suddenly familiar face, leaning against his staff for support. Feeling drained from his hands, his arms, and that numbness slowly spread. He hadn’t seen that face in, how long? Aoba took a step back, mind blank, throat tight.

“…Koujaku,” he whispered silently. And then he lurched into action, putting the matter from his mind. He didn’t waste any time trying to heal Koujaku here, except for the slight few necessary. If he didn’t get Koujaku to a safe, clean environment as soon as possible the knight would not make it. Aoba warded him, stopped the bleeding, and promptly picked him up in his arms with a huff, cradling him like a baby. He stuffed his staff into his pack, pushing it down as far as possible and hoping that it wouldn’t hinder his movements. Koujaku’s armor and sword clanking in its sheath on his hip was already trouble enough.

Aoba grunted as he moved quickly through the forest, the knight’s head bumping on his arm with each step. This worried Aoba, but he couldn’t stop, he had to force himself to keep going despite the weight and the awkward height difference. As he rushed through the woods, he assessed the knight’s injuries with fleeting looks.

From what Aoba could tell, the knight had multiple broken ribs, probably a punctured lung. His left shoulder was slashed, and the bone probably cut; that would be difficult. Aoba noted happily how his stomach didn’t seem to be touched. If it had been, Koujaku most likely would not have survived. Not many survive stomach wounds, even with Aoba as their healer.

Other than the larger issues;  stab wounds much too close to the heart, and the fact that blood was probably piling up in Koujaku’s lungs as Aoba ambled clumsily through the forest; the knight had sword wounds adorning his whole body. Aoba could feel the warm blood soaking his robes (not that they would stain, they were spelled against that), and knew that he also had a back wound.

“Hurry,” Aoba huffed. “I must… hurry.”

The house was right where he knew it would be and he blessed and thanked his queen twice over. Now he could save his… this knight. For the queen.

Aoba burst into the house, gasping for breath, and walked slowly over to the table. Armor clanked angrily as Aoba placed him on the hard, cold, wooden surface, and every so carefully he removed what he could of the destroyed armor. He didn’t care if there was a better place to lay the knight down at the moment, it didn’t matter. The knight didn’t need to be comfortable, just healed. He needed to be attended too fast. He set his pack aside, taking his staff out and leaning it against the wall. He wouldn’t be needing it until he went outside again, this type of healing he could do without it.

While breathing slowly to regain his strength, Aoba pulled a piece of bread from his bag and chewed on it greedily while assessing Koujaku once again, now without the armor in the way, noting everything that had to be healed or attended too. It was as he thought; no better, but thankfully no worse. Aoba swallowed his last bite of bread, appraised his supplies, pulled a chair up to the table, and got to work.

\----

It took Aoba hours. Hours of magic, tools, herbs, liquids, stitches, and more magic. So much magic. Aoba was exhausted. But the knight was patched up. The bones were removed from his lung, the organ healing on the inside and the bones stitched back together, now finishing healing on their own. There was no more bleeding, no internal bleeding. Koujaku’s shoulder was closed and almost completely mended. Cuts were scabbing over. His back was bandaged. Aoba would have to work more on that later. He was too exhausted to complete such a large feat right now.

With drooping eyes he looked around him. He didn’t want to leave Koujaku alone. Not while things could change in just an instant. Aoba was only one person. There was only so much he could do. But he had at least kept the man alive.

He stood over Koujaku, hands on the table, knuckles white as his arms shook trying to keep him up. Aoba stared at the familiar face, allowing the memories, finally, to seep into his tired mind. Tears pricked at the edges of his eyes. _I’m just tired_ , he thought stubbornly. _That’s the only reason I’m crying_.

From what he could remember it had been 14 years since he last saw Koujaku. At that time, Aoba’s powers had been noticed, and he’d been taken away from his best, and only, childhood friend. “Koujaku,” Aoba choked out, tears now streaming down his face. He remembered how kind Koujaku had been. He remembered Koujaku protecting him from the people who took advantage of him, who bullied him for his strangely colored hair. He remembered Koujaku’s warm arms, carrying him away in the snow, back home to his grandma while whispering soothingly into his ear after Aoba had gotten lost.

Aoba clenched his teeth, refusing to sob. How lonely he’d been. How lonely, pressured, and hurt he had been without his friend. And here he was, right in front of him again. This time, Aoba had protected him. His heart twisted in a mix of happiness and pain. Fear encased him. What would he do if Koujaku didn’t remember him? Would he have to pretend? Would Koujaku forget?

Before Aoba could stop them, his tears fell from his chin onto Koujaku’s open chest. Hurriedly he backed away, swiping a trembling hand over his wet eyes to dry them, breath hitching as he tried to calm himself. “I need to sleep,” he whispered to himself as he backed away on weak legs.

He turned, only to stop when he felt a tug on his robes. Had he caught them in something? Sniffling quietly, Aoba looked behind him. Instead of his clothes being caught on the table or a tool, Koujaku’s scarred hand was gripping it hard. Aoba gasped at the sight, surprise rippling through him. One of Koujaku’s eyes was open in a slit, looking up at Aoba knowingly.

Pale, cracked lips opened, but instead of a voice, only a gargled sound escaped the knight’s throat. Hurriedly, Aoba took the man’s hand, holding it in his and looking him in the eye hard. “No talking,” he whispered, voice hard but amber-green eyes gentle. “I will give you water and food in a few hours. You need to rest.”

Koujaku blinked once, opening the other eye now, but unable to keep them both open for long. They drooped, closed, then opened again to look at Aoba with watery longing. Again he opened his mouth, and Aoba was about to scold him, but this time a rough, soothing voice came out in gasps. “A…o… ba…”

Tears bloomed in Aoba’s eyes again, though he made no excuses for them this time. He was about to respond to Koujaku’s words when the knight’s eyes fell closed and his breathing evened into sleep.

Aoba let go of the limp hand gently and went over to the nearest, comfortable looking chair, sitting into it hard and dropping his head into his hands. _I have to sleep_ , he told himself again. _I just, have to sleep_.

\----

Aoba woke up feeling refreshed, but uncomfortable. He stood awkwardly, stretching his cramped muscles and noting how he shouldn’t sleep in a chair again. After working out all his kinks carefully, he ambled over to where Koujaku lay on the table. The knight was still asleep and would be asleep for at least the rest of the day. Healing made the healer and healed tired and hungry. But before feeding himself, Aoba needed to move Koujaku to a more comfortable location. The table was not a good place for him to recover as well and fast as he needed to.

So once again, he picked up the heavy man in his arms, gently, and carried him into the next room which was the bedroom. There was only one bed. Aoba sighed. Of course his queen would do this. Shrugging internally, he placed the knight on the bed and began checking over all of his wounds, making sure they were indeed healing properly. As he did so, he took in all of Koujaku’s appearance. His skin had lost its pallor from the day before, thankfully, and was now tinted with the lightest hint of a gold tan. Dark bangs fell over one eye, covering a black tattoo carving its way around the eye and the scar the queen had showed him pulled across his otherwise perfectly shaped nose. Blue-black hair was pulled into a messy, thin ponytail. Aoba had also noted the scars that adorned his knuckles and back, along with the tattoo of a blooming, red flower that spread across the mauled expanse of skin. The sight of the tattoo had sent a shock of sadness through him, confused. Here was a Koujaku he didn’t know. He didn’t know this Koujaku, but he wanted to know him.

Before going to prepare food for himself and Koujaku, Aoba reached towards the softened, sleeping face. He brushed Koujaku’s bangs away and ran a finger over the tattoo, knowing that the red knight wouldn’t be able to wake up just quite yet. The skin was warm and smooth with no signs of a fever. A soft smile spread across Aoba lips, warmth spreading across his cheeks. He moved his hand from his forehead to his nose to trace over the deep scar, mesmerized by the bump of new skin.

Suddenly ashamed by his actions, he jerked his hand away from his old friend’s face and rushed into the kitchen to get some food for his famished body. He fumbled through the provisions on the shelf in the kitchen before noticing a cellar door just below the kitchen area which he went to explore, thinking there may be some meat stored down there. Other than soups, Koujaku would need meats and drinks. As he trekked down the stairs, he shivered, a strange sense of magic filling him. He hesitated on the steps trying to categorize the type of magic. It was nothing he had felt before. After a few moments Aoba let out a sigh and continued down the steps, deciding that it was not a malevolent magic, but still curious as to what kind of magic it was. He would have to investigate more later.

The cellar was cold and dark, but Aoba’s eyes adjusted quickly just as they had in the forest. He looked through shelves and shelves of food, travelling down into a carved alcove. Here was the meet, piled into a whole dug in the wall. Relief flooded Aoba. His queen had told him that there were be sufficient provisions, after all. Grunting as he carried the meat, he made his way back up the steps. He wasn’t the best cook he knew, not by far, but Aoba knew that he could make something that would at least help to restore Koujaku’s strength and that was hopefully somewhat edible. He chuckled soberly as he walked back up to the kitchen to start a soup for Koujaku and a meal for himself.

\---

The next few days passed quietly. Koujaku was in and out of sleep allowing Aoba to rest and regain his strength. Although he felt awkward about it, Aoba curled up on the bed beside Koujaku, attempting to keep his distance. Because of the fire place in the room and near the kitchen, Aoba was able to keep his robes off and move around more comfortably. Water heated up fast, and he was relieved to be able to bathe every day for once. He liked the house despite the strange magic that was in it. In his free hours after cooking for himself and Koujaku, making sure the knight was comfortable and assisted, he would explore the house and the woods nearby. Aoba still couldn’t find the source of the strange magic, but there were wards laid around the expanse of the house to keep the two inhabitants safe. Once again he thanked his queen silently.

Strange feelings and thoughts haunted him when he was around Koujaku. Although Aoba was able to sleep more peacefully than ever when he was by his side, he couldn’t help but feel that something was off. There was a strange force pulling him towards this man which made him nervous and hesitant. He could not figure out what it was, which scared him more than the feelings themselves.

It was the third day since they’d arrived at the house that Koujaku opened his eyes and was finally, thankfully, lucid. He stared at Aoba apprehensively, not like he had that first night, and tried to push himself up on his elbows only to grit his teeth in pain. Aoba watched silently, gauging the man’s actions. “You probably shouldn’t strain yourself so much right now,” he whispered. The knight shot a harried look at Aoba, making him want to take a step backwards. He restrained himself, taking a breath, “Your muscles were ripped in some places, and your bones are still mending themselves. There is only so much that I can do with this power.”

“You,” Koujaku said, his eyes widening the more Aoba talked. “You, are you Aoba?” Aoba bit his bottom lip and crossed his arms, a rush of warmth surging through him. For some reason he felt the urge to run over to Koujaku at the call of his name. He forced himself to at least look at the man in the eyes. The scarlet bulbs looked at him, trailing his body, lingering on his face and ruffled, long blue hair. They must be familiar to him. The thought made Aoba’s heart leap in his chest. “Aoba,” Koujaku said again, his voice stronger, more certain. “The small, little Aoba who suddenly disappeared from my life years ago?” There was incredibility in his silky, attractive voice accompanied with immense sadness. Aoba’s heart bubbled knowing that the knight remembered him.

Slowly, Aoba moved to sit next to the man who still struggled to sit up. Gently, he placed a nervous hand on his bandaged chest and urged him to lie back down. “You’re still weak,” Aoba said quietly, hoping that Koujaku wouldn’t notice this waver in his voice. Koujaku nodded in wonder, and then nodded again. Aoba wondered if he was taking it all in, what he was thinking. He also wondered what had happened to his army, but knew better than to ask. If he did, the weakness in the depths of Koujaku’s eyes told Aoba that he might break.

“Aoba,” Koujaku breathed, staring up into his eyes. Unconsciously, Aoba slid his hand over Koujaku’s chest, feeling the taught, bulging muscles, tracing the lines in the skin as he looked back at Koujaku. “Aoba,” he breathed again, lifting a hand to place it atop Aoba’s. Aoba jolted at the touch, but didn’t move from Koujaku’s side. Electricity trilled through his veins, making his heart pound in his ears. He had no idea what was going on, but on impulse he lowered his head, pressed his lips to Koujaku’s gently, and then stood up just as abruptly.

“You,” he gasped. “E…eat the soup and bread that I placed on the table.” His words came out muffled, his breath ragged, and he escaped from the room, from the house, and out into the clearing around the house.

Aoba sat in a fluster, dropping onto his bottom with a thud. He stared at his hands, smiled nervously, and then took a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying to calm his fluttering heart. _What the hell was that_ , he asked himself. He squeezed his eyes shit so tight that sparks formed on the backs of his eyelids. He watched them burst and flower just beyond his vision and then opened them slowly to a bright, beautiful world of trees.

“It’s the house,” Aoba murmured to himself, head clear. “That was the magic I felt in the cellar.” He chuckled, and then burst out laughing, surprising himself. Of course. Of course the queen would do this. She had always been like this. He should have known. Through his maniacal laughter, Aoba couldn’t help but feel that despite the craziness of it all, he didn’t really mind if it was Koujaku.

Nevertheless, Aoba tried to keep his distance from Koujaku if he could, though he cared for him with all his expertise and all his heart. Koujaku was recovering quickly. He was soon able to sit up in bed without pain. Because of that, Aoba decided that it would be best to physically wash the man. Koujaku talked through everything. He talked through the check-ups, the washings, the meals. There was a light in his eyes, growing brighter and brighter with each word, each conversation. He told Aoba about how he came to work for the queen, how he had risen to his rank, and the story of the battle. While sadness did, in fact, sour his voice, Koujaku was frank. It was as if he knew exactly what Aoba was thinking and begging to know. After a while, Aoba in turn began to talk. He, too, told Koujaku why he had been taken away, the story of his life under the queen. Their stories were frighteningly similar.

However, through these conversations, meals, healings, washings, check-ups, strange things kept happening. Aoba knew it was the house. He knew it was the house that made Koujaku hold his hand as they slept. He knew it was the house that made Koujaku look at him with those eyes that made his insides tremble with longing. He knew it was the house that made Koujaku shiver under his touch and that made his hands and arms and face burn with heat whenever he touched Koujaku. It was the house that made his touch want to linger on the broad back. It was the house that made his hands flutter over Koujaku’s lips and face as the man slept soundly.

When he felt this way, Aoba would escape outside, breathing deeply. The strange thing was, though, that even though the fear disappeared, the feelings were still there. They were growing. His mind cleared once outside, but Aoba hated how he realized that his feelings were, in fact, most likely not just the house’s doing. The knowledge caused fear to bloom in his heart. What if Koujaku’s actions were just due to the strange magic? Aoba didn’t know what he would do, and he didn’t want to be the one to cross that line.

\---

“Aoba, come here,” Koujaku called from the bedroom, startling Aoba from his thoughts. He removed their dinner from the fire so that it wouldn’t burn and washed his hands. “Aoba!” Came the call again.

“I’ll be right there so shut up!” Aoba called back in good humor. Koujaku had been getting too used to Aoba answering to his every beck and call. Aoba would need to fix that. He made his way to the bedroom slowly. Koujaku was fully healed, but his body was still weak and from now on he would need to work his muscles. Aoba saw Koujaku sitting in the bed as he peeked into the room, a sudden strange feeling hitting him. Koujaku’s eyes looked somehow different.

Koujaku held out a scarred hand. “Come here,” he whispered. The feelings hiding under the quietness of his voice made Aoba’s heart skip a beat. Slowly, as if on impulse, he moved himself closer to his childhood friend and took that warm hand in his. _This is just the house_ , he told himself, trying to break himself free of the spell of Koujaku’s sultry eyes. _I need to keep control of myself_. Yet he let Koujaku tug him onto the bed, pulling him with such immense strength that irritation flared within Aoba as he fell over Koujaku.

“You-!” He yelled. “If you have that kind of strength you should get out of bed, lazy ass!” He glared at Koujaku beneath him, his blue hair falling into his view. Koujaku just laughed at him, eyes warm with amusement. “You’ve just been using me haven’t you, idiot.” Aoba let the frustration fill his voice, but he couldn’t help the pout that made its way onto his lips.

Koujaku smiled lopsidedly and brushed Aoba’s hair from his face, looking up at him warmly. “I haven’t been using you,” he lied, his voice soft. Aoba bit his lip, mind swirling in confusion. He had no idea what was going on. He was supposed to be mad at Koujaku, the lump! But he wasn’t. He was sinking into some other, foreign feeling, getting lost in the knight’s eyes.

“Aoba,” Koujaku whispered, bringing their faces closer together. Aoba shivered at the sound of his name, frozen in place with anticipation and nervousness. Their lips were mere centimeters apart. Feeling his eyelids flutter hotly, Aoba attempted to pull himself away, suddenly frightened.

“Koujaku,” his voice wavered. Aoba frowned, focussed. “Koujaku I have to…”

Koujaku smiled, the expression causing Aoba to stop talking. He had to get away but… “Don’t run away, Aoba. Don’t run away from me anymore.” Aoba’s heart fluttered and he gasped, eyes locked on Koujaku’s knowing ones. “Listen to what I have to say for once, Aoba.”

Aoba’s whole body shook. Though he was hesitant, he nodded. Koujaku nodded his approval and opened his mouth, his eyes and expression now turning serious. Aoba’s fingertips were tingling. He realized that they were still held in Koujaku’s hand. “Aoba, I know we’ve been together for only a short time since reuniting. But Aoba listen to me. I, since we first met, I’ve always-“

“Koujaku!” Aoba gasped, cutting the man off. “Koujaku, it’s the house, don’t go saying things you don’t mean, don’t go saying such silly things when it’s just a magic that’s been put on you!” Koujaku narrowed his eyes, keeping his grip on Aoba’s hand, not letting him go. Aoba found that he didn’t mind. But he didn’t want fake feelings. He wanted…

“Magic?” Koujaku asked in an incredulous voice. “You think that these feelings I have for you aren’t true? Aoba, I’ve loved you for a long time. It’s only that we haven’t been together. Living in this house with you, that love has grown and been restored.” Aoba looked away, lips trembling dangerously. How could this guy say such embarrassing things…!? There was no way they could be true… “Aoba,” Koujaku said again, his voice hard. Aoba found his eyes drawn to the beautiful man beneath him. “Aoba, I love you. That’s a fact. Whether the house is magicked or not couldn’t change that.”

A strange squeak escaped from Aoba’s lips and he looked away, face heating up to his ears. The hand that had been on his face slid down to his neck, leaving a trail of sweet hotness in its wake. Koujaku cradled Aoba’s neck in his hand, and suddenly their lips were pressing together. Aoba’s eyes widened at the sensation. Koujaku’s lips were warm, soft, and sweet, just as they had been the first time Aoba had kissed him. A moan left his lips, eyes sliding shut. Koujaku flicked his lips with his tongue, causing Aoba to squirm in pleasure and open his mouth to let him in.

Lightning singed his veins at the soft wetness of Koujaku’s tongue curling against his. Aoba felt a surge of strength under him, hardly noticing due to the pleasure rising in his hips, but suddenly he was under Koujaku, staring up at him. Both of them were panting, sweat dripping down Koujaku’s face. Aoba lifted a hand to touch that oh so pleasant face and cupped a cheek. “We shouldn’t do this. No matter how strong you are, you’ve just recovered from a lot of healing…”

Koujaku shook his head and buried his face into Aoba’s neck. Aoba gasped, feeling that warm tongue lapping at his skin. He bit his lower lip, clenching his eyes shut and wrapping his arms around Koujaku’s bare, firm back. Without thinking, he thrust his hips up to meet Koujaku’s, pleasure filling him as his hips met with equal hardness.

Teeth trailed along his neck and he had to stifle the gasps and moans that were fighting to escape his lips. “Koujaku…” he murmured, embarrassed by the lust that filled his words. “Koujaku, really, you… You need to rest.”

“Be quiet, Aoba,” Koujaku growled deeply against his earlobe. Aoba’s body jerked up in response. “But let me hear your voice when you’re feeling pleasure, please.” Aoba shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Koujaku’s lips again. He didn’t mind. But he didn’t want to release his voice. He couldn’t bear to hear it.

While kissing him, Koujaku trailed his hands down Aoba’s body, slipping his loose shirt off over his head between kisses and pulling off his breeches deftly. Confusion and pleasure muddled Aoba’s brain, but more than that embarrassment drove him to feel shy. He was already too turned on from a few kisses. Koujaku seemed to be as well, but still. He didn’t want to admit how much he wanted him.

Koujaku broke the kiss to place his lips against Aoba’s neck. He trailed them down Aoba’s bare body, making him shiver at the new sensation of tongue mixed with lips pressing against his skin. Aoba reached out a hand to hold Koujaku’s forehead just as the man reached his waistline. “Koujaku, no,” he breathed. He felt like he was going crazy. His eyes stared at Koujaku wildly, mind racing at the desperation and longing Koujaku projected at him.

“Aoba.” His hot breath hit Aoba’s skin, making Aoba gasp and jerk his hips up, knocking Koujaku in the face.

“Ah, Koujaku!” Aoba tried to sit up, flushing deeply, mortified. Koujaku covered his face with his hand, eyes crinkling in silent laughter. As he pulled his hand away, Aoba noticed blood dripping from that slender nose and bit his lip, tears of shame pricking his eyes. He reached out a shaking hand and pressed one finger to Koujaku’s nose. White light glowed around his hand and the blood stopped, disappearing. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, looking down and dropping his hand.

Koujaku chuckled and lowered his head back to Aoba’s skin, licking around his belly button as he stared up at him lewdly. “Don’t mind it, forget about it,” he whispered, breath fluttering against Aoba’s hot, singing skin. “Just let me hear your voice in payment,” Aoba bit his lip, too embarrassed to answer. He flopped down onto the bed, but not before cupping Koujaku’s cheeks in his hands and dragging it back up to his.

“I…” Aoba faltered, staring into those eyes. “I want you….Koujaku.” Aoba could see Koujaku lurch in shock, and then soften. He trailed a hand down Aoba’s chest, tweaking each nipple and producing gasps of pleasure and surprise from Aoba that he couldn’t hold back. Then he travelled down his stomach, waist, and pulled off his trunks all in one swift movement.

“I have to prepare you, you know,” Koujaku breathed. His voice was shaky, rough. Aoba nodded, his head clouded with pleasure and desire.

“Ah!” Aoba exclaimed in shock as Koujaku inserted one digit into his ass. He shut his eyes tight, gasping, trying to get used to the foreign feeling. He chewed the side of his mouth, not caring that he caused it to bleed. Koujaku’s finger wriggled inside of him, sending waves of pleasure mixed with pain to Aoba’s lower body. Embarrassment added itself into the mix when he realized his cock was rock hard and dripping with precum.

His body shook and trembled, silent gasps escaping his lips, and another finger was added, as well as Koujaku’s warm hand gripping his slippery cock. Aoba finally let out a moan as Koujaku began to stroke him, scissoring his ass all the while.

“K-Koujaku….” He groaned, thrusting his hips to meet Koujaku’s pace. “Koujaku, enough…” He wanted more. He couldn’t help it. Aoba as nervous, unable to imagine what could happen next, but his ass was throbbing, begging for more. He lifted his hips, covering his mouth with one hand and gripping the bed sheets in the other. “I want more,” he said, voice muffled by his hand.

“So erotic Aoba,” Koujaku growled. He pulled his fingers out of Aoba, let go of his cock, and pressed his own throbbing erection to Aoba’s begging ass. “Are you sure you’re ready?” He asked, worried but desperate eyes catching Aoba’s and holding them. Aoba nodded without hesitation.

Needing no more confirmation than that, Koujaku slowly began to press himself into Aoba. “Mmm!” Aoba preened in shock, thankful for his hand over his mouth. Koujaku’s eyes were closed, brow furrowed, sweat pouring down his face as he pushed in slowly, trying his best, Aoba imagined, not to hurt hum.

Aoba threw one arm around Koujaku’s neck and grabbed at his back desperately, holding his breath as Koujaku slid fully into him. Once he was as far back as possible, Koujaku opened his eyes with a groan, and began to slowly start moving inside of him. “So… tight,” he grunted, gritting his teeth. Aoba removed his hand from his mouth. He couldn’t take it anymore. He thrust his now free hand over Koujaku’s neck as well and opened his mouth to express his pleasure.

Pleasure shot through him with each of Koujaku’s movements. The pain was practically gone by now, though Aoba really couldn’t register anything other than a ball tightening in his stomach, tingles shooting through his body. His toes curled as he moaned, moving his hips the best he could in time with Koujaku’s. He buried his face into Koujaku’s neck, breathing hotly against the damp skin and relishing in Koujaku’s shuddering reaction.

“Does it feel… good?” Koujaku asked, wrapping his arms under Aoba’s body, embracing him, and lowering them both closer to the bed.

“Y…es,” Aoba managed to gasp out. “Koujaku, more… please.”

Koujaku muffled a deep chuckle and nuzzled his nose into Aoba’s soft hair, breathing in the scent deeply and making Aoba’s heart skip a beat. “No,” he whispered. “Do it yourself.”

Aoba whined, but obeyed. He was getting so close, the knot in his abdomen growing, his cock shuddering and dripping painfully as Koujaku thrust in and out of him repeatedly. He let go of Koujaku with one arm and wriggled in between their two hot, sweaty bodies to grip his cock in his hand, groaning at the touch. His mind grew fuzzy, the only thing he noticed was Koujaku’s now ragged movements. He was going faster, pounding into Aoba and grunting, moaning with every movement he made. Aoba loved that. It made him lose himself.

He was gone, stroking himself to the uneven rhythm of Koujaku’s thrusts. “K-Koujaku,” he whimpered, lapping at Koujaku’s bulging neck desperately. “I-I can’t. I’m going to… come nn,” Aoba’s breath hitched and scattered moans escaped his red lips, a burst of white impairing his vision as waves of pleasure assaulted him. Without meaning to, he tightened around Koujaku as he came, feeling the hotness of his cum trickling down his fingers and sticking on both of their bodies as spasms wracked his weakening body.

Aoba panted, loosening his hand on himself, and stared up at the wall, groaning. Koujaku thrust into him harder than ever, but by the sound of the voice he was letting out, he too would be reaching his limit quite soon. Aoba shivered and squirmed under him, weakly thrusting his hips, the pleasure still almost too much for his weakened body.

Koujaku pulled an arm out from under Aoba’s body and put it nest to Aoba’s hand, growling “hand” into Aoba’s ear. After a second, Aoba realized what he meant and let go of his lover’s back to grab the begging hand. Koujaku groaned, thrust once more, and jolted to a stop the second their fingers became intertwined. Aoba moaned with him, thrusting upward to meet Koujaku’s paralyzed body, and shivering as he felt the hotness of Koujaku’s cum fill him.

“Aoba,” Koujaku breathed. Aoba shivered and closed his eyes, not even bothering to hide a smile. “Aoba, I love you.”

A happiness that was new to Aoba filled his heart and flushed his already hot cheeks. “I…” His breath caught as Koujaku pulled out of him, staring down at him with such softness Aoba had to gulp before responding quietly, “I love you, too.” He promptly flopped around in the bed, ignoring his conscious telling him to clean up, and hid his smile in the pillow. Soon, they would have to leave the house. But he knew that nothing would change.

Koujaku placed a kiss on each of Aoba’s shoulder blades and lied back down, embracing the smaller, blue-haired man. “I know,” he whispered sweetly.


End file.
